Between The Furs
by Dazzled by Northman
Summary: Eric Northman has 30 day's and 30 nights to find a wife or else he'll lose his inheritance.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: _Between The Furs_.  
><strong>Beta Reader<strong>: _The amazing: Joie Cullen :)_  
><strong>Summary<strong>: _Eric Northman has 30 day's and 30 nights to find a wife or else he'll lose his inheritance. AH/AU – Lemons_.  
><strong>Note<strong>: _Story edited on: 18th of February 2012. I accidentally re-posted the origional version first, not the beta'd._  
><em>This Is the beta'd version :) Thanks again, to the amazing: Joie Cullen<em>!  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: _All SS-SVM characters belong to Charlaine Harris_.

Chapter 1.  
>Eric Northman POV.<p>

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The old man had to have the last word, that last hold over me. His last command before he passed away, with my mother as a witness, was _find a wife in 30 days or else you'll lose your inheritance_.

Which basically translates: _Find a girl and marry her within thirty-days or else_.

There blows my freedom, the end to my ah... pleasurable lifestyle. I'd enjoyed many woman over the years.

I'd never been short of a bed partner and I liked to use my good looks to my advantage as well as my title, power, and influence. Though I'd never force anyone into my bed; they came willingly and eager to please me.

It is now two days into the thirty-day dead line. What a way to start the new year? It's the month of January and My father died on the first of January, 2012. It is now two days into the thirty day dead line, what a way to start the new year? I recently turned twenty four, I was at the prime of my life and Father asks this of me now?

I should be out there partying and care-free. Enjoying living life to the full. Well, I've had ten years of fun, and fun indeed it was. With a wealthy family I had the privileges that most normal folk could only dream.

I loved my life style, I wasn't ready to settle down and have a family. I wanted to enjoy life and live it to the full till at least thirty-five. Like his cousin, Pamela Swynford De Beaufort, she let her hair down, head raised high, nose up in the air with out a care in the world about what the general public thought of her.

Unbeknown to her father, his Uncle Felipe De Beaufort-De Castro, Pam prefers woman to men and has courted woman right under her father's nose with out getting detected. Together, we are a force to be reckoned with. I sighed, our troublesome duo day's were officially over. Wondering how to break the news to Pam I decided to ring her instead of a face-to-face conversation.

Pam picked up on second ring.

"This better be good, cousin. I'm having dessert." I cringed, I loved woman, but with Pam, if your not careful she'll go into full detail of said dessert and I wasn't having any of it. Equally so, now I can't share that dessert or have any dessert until I find a wife... Did I forget to mention my father put me on lock down? Unfair isn't it?

"Hellooooo?" Pam said, bored.

"He's dead." Was all I said, and with those two words I had her full attention.

"Shit." Was Pam's smart reply.

"Indeed. Along with my freedom!" I responded bitterly.

"What did the old man demand this time? Surely, from what I hear he was too ill to speak?" Pam asked, I sighed.

"Well my father spoke perfectly clear to me, in front of myself and mother yesterday. We haven't issued a statement yet, so you best keep your trap shut Pamela or else I'll know who's door to be knocking down." I warned.

"Crystal clear!" Pam said, serious for once.

"Good. The old man had enough life left in him to give me one last command.." I trailed off waiting for Pam's response.

"That doesn't sound good. And don't leave it hanging like that. Give me the details." She demanded. I smirked, though, I wasn't happy with what was about to fall out of my mouth.

"He told me I basically had to find a girl within thirty-days and marry her or else I lose my inheritance."

"Ouch." Pam said, with sympathy.

"And those were his last words, with mother as witness." I grumbled.

"Aw, maybe you should consider bedding just the one when you find her, Eric. It's not as bad as you think. My Amelia is very satisfying, so satisfying that I haven't looked twice at another since I first met her." I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

I knew things where pretty serious between Pam and Amelia but I didn't realize how serious things had become.

"Does Uncle know?" I asked, knowing the answer to the question already.

"Do you seriously think I'm stupid Eric?" She hissed. "He'd lock me up for the rest of my life if he caught me in an inappropriate way – or a way he deemed inappropriate - with a woman. He'd probably marry me off as soon as he could to the most unattractive man on the planet as punishment." She paused. "Men are bad enough as it is."

"HEY!" I shouted, defending my sex. "Not all men are bad Pamela. You happen to be related to and best friends with said man." I pointed out.

"Humph. You're not a man if your grumbling about getting married to a woman, Eric. I'd say you are a coward." I could almost see Pam smirking and my eyes flashed in anger and irritation. She'd set the fuel alight and I could see where this was going already. She'd said the words I needed to hear.

"I am no coward, Pamela Swynford De Beaufort! I hissed.

"Really?" She taunted.

"Really." I growled.

"So why, dear cousin are you sat on your ass, mopping around about the loss of your freedom. Because Daddy, and now cousin, Pamela, are challenging you?" She said the magic word that fed that fuel burning within me.

"What are you saying Pamela?" I already new, but I wanted to hear it from her.

"I, Pamela Swynford De Beaufort, challenge you, Eric Alexander Northman, to find a wife in the time you've been given with the help of your beloved cousin and her sexy lover Amelia Broadway." She paused. "Do you accept this challenge, Sire?"

I didn't like it one bit, I didn't like it because Pam just basically took it upon herself to play match-maker, add Miss Broadway into the mix, and you've got double the trouble and I already had enough on my plate, along with a country to run. I didn't have time for this shit, but my father had left me with no choice. Now it was time to shape up and grow the fuck up and become the King my father trained me to be and complete his last mission as much as I wish I didn't have too.

"I accept the challenge with the help of yourself and Miss Amelia Broadway."

"Good." Pam said, I could almost picture the smirk on her face, the mischievous, dangerous twinkle in her eyes and I couldn't help but groan at her next words.

"Let the match-making begin." Pam's evil cackle greeted me along with whom I could only assume was Amelia's giggles in the background and hung up pretty quickly!

I moved into my large bathroom and stood in front of the large mirror that covered most of one wall opposite the large bath – Jacuzzi tub - and shower.

As I stared at myself, I briefly wondered what I'd just gotten himself into.


	2. Chapter 2

_Note_: **Decades of thank you's** go out to my amazing beta: Joie Cullen :) and to **all of** you for taking the time out to **read, review alert or favourite** this story! **Thank you all so much**. ﭢ  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: _All SS-SVM characters belong to Charlaine Harris_.

**Chapter 2.**  
><strong>Eric's Point of View<strong>.

The next day flew by almost in a blur. Breaking the news that the King is dead, press interviews, funeral arrangements. If I didn't have the help of my mother, a few close friends, and well chosen family members I think I would have lost the plot, along with Pamela dropping names into my head of possible future wives.

Sometimes through out the past forty-eight hours I wish I could have just disappeared into the shadows and escape to some place where nobody would bother me or pester or pressure me. I love being the centre of attention but so much has happened that I feel like I'm wearing a ticking time bomb.

My mobile buzzed in my pocket as I walked around the gardens of my detached house in a gated community on the outskirts of London. If I couldn't have a get-a-way break, I would go to my own home instead to clear my head for a couple of days. Luckily said gated community's houses where well spread out and you can just make out the top of the next house. It's my own personal sanctuary that only few know of. I don't even drive my favourite car hear in the fear of some one recognizing me and if people got a whiff of where I live, there's no escaping the press or crazy stalker Royalist followers.

I flipped it open and saw it was a text from Pam.

_Get your moping ass down to my store ASAP. Let the fun and games begin_!

I groaned, feeling even more reluctant to leave my sanctuary, but it had been three days since my father's last request and time flies by quickly now days. With a heavy sigh, I trudged back to my house that was basically a miniature manor house. It had four guest bedrooms including my own upstairs, each with joint bathroom facilities and each holds unique designs.

The down stairs held a large living space, and an equally large kitchen that would melt any woman's heart. A down stairs toilet and utility room, plus conservatory which covered the entire back of the house, I could easily access it through the kitchen, utility or garage door that's mostly locked.

The house's outer decor is built with old stone, giving it a country feel which was what I wanted and had an air of old cottage about it, even though the inside was pretty much brand new and well kept. The roof is titled, nothing special though I've thought about having it thatched to tie in with the country theme that is going on, on the outside. I even have a white-fence around the front garden, although it is a high fence, to keep out nosey by-passers, along with half a mile tar-mac drive. This is about as much privacy as I'm going to get. I just hope I can maintain this privacy. I've had this place for five years now, so I've gone undetected this long, surely I can keep it under wraps for longer?

Pam owned a fashion store on Oxford Street and luckily there was a back road bit, where she parked her car, and Amelia's. Funny, that's where they happened to meet. Amelia is an American girl from Louisiana, whom came over a few years back traveling Europe. Apparently she had a friend with her at the time, though I don't remember seeing her with a friend. Pam claims to have met her on a few occasions, she's been where Amelia lives and loved the fact nobody in her small-town recognized her. She bragged for weeks about how nice it was to let her hair down and be her self no camera's stalking her were ever she went because believe me their was always at least one hovering around.

The one thing I hated about going undetected was the small fact I had to navigate around London traffic. It was awful. I don't know how those with cars can stand sitting in a pissing que for ages. It drives me insane. Finally, I arrived at the back of Pam's shop only to see Amelia waiting for me at the back entrance with an evil smirk on her face. I had to control the groan that was in danger of breaking free but I managed to maintain my expressionless poker face I'd mastered over the years thanks to my father drilling into me that showing emotion was a weakness. I didn't even shed a tear for the old man even though I did feel things on the inside, I wouldn't allow them to show on the outside. I am not weak and if I show a small amount of weakness the media and public will attack it.

"That poker-face of yours ain't foolin' nobody your Royalness." Amelia said in way of greeting, amused.

"Let's just get this over with, shall we?" I said, using my familiar bored tone.

"Whatever Mister, but you could lighten up a bit. I'm surprised that bar of yours and Pam's is still going strong with that poker-face expression you have going on."

We walked inside and I smirked.

"It's called being a mystery as well as a real Prince on display." I loved that bar. Pam and I opened it up a few years back when we turned twenty-one. It was our first business venture and some of the money went to charities as well as our own pockets. Our parents thought stepping out into the public and doing things normal people do to get by in life would warm people to us. It's worked, our bar is popular for tourists wanting to get close to royalty and important people.

"Yes well, no need to rub in that ego of yours, just sit pretty and smile or smirk that smirk we woman want to slap or kiss off that handsome face of yours and we'll do all the dirty work." She said, I smirked.

"Does that involve kissing my shoes?" I asked.

"Fuck-no." Always the out spoken one, Amelia, never holds anything back.

**Note**: Sorry about the shortness all, chapters will get longer as the story grows :D I can promise you that, also... I feel guilty saying this but the reviews are also inspiration for longer chapters :)


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